


Take A Look At The Lawman

by Mackem



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Bondage, Handcuffs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tart who'd bounced on his knob hadn't even had the decency to pull a sheet over him before she scarpered. Thank Heaven for small bleedin' mercies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take A Look At The Lawman

"You're in a right old state, ey?" The plonk is gone, her cheeks even redder than Sam's as she flees. He'd bet an easy tenner than she'd memorised the view before she went. Filthy bird, he reckons. She might even have her hand in her knickers later, after a sight like this.

Sam's cuffed to his shitty fold-out bed, wrists above his head and not a stitch to cover him. The tart who'd bounced on his knob hadn't even had the decency to pull a sheet over him before she scarpered. Thank Heaven for small bleedin' mercies.

"Guv," Sam manages weakly. He makes a show of looking Sam over lazily, lounging in the doorway and drinking in the view. Sam is obviously uncomfortable which, considering his usual smug, holier-than-thou prickishness, is no surprise with his bollocks on show. "I never…I didn't want…"

"Oh yeah? Looks like _she_ wanted," he drawls. He strolls into the room, standing over Sam and pursing his lips thoughtfully. "Is this what that women's lib is all about? Birds tyin' up blokes for a quick ride on the old gearstick? Is this how it works at Hyde?" he asks with a smirk, knowing this will wind Sam up. It works; he colours and closes his eyes tiredly. "Bunch of tarts gaggin' to have their way with poofs who need to be tied down to get it up?"

"Just…untie me," Sam mumbles, his hands clenched in the cuffs. "The key…I dunno where it is, but it should be around –"

"–Untie you? And why the hell should I do that?" Sam cracks an eyelid, wary and lost, and Gene rests his hands on his hips. "You've been holed up all night with a charged criminal –"

"– Come on, Guv, all she did was put a brick through Woollies' front window!" Sam snaps, wincing as if his head hurts. "Just so she could talk to _me_!"  
  
"– So you're practically an accomplice!" he thunders, and Sam winces again. " _And_ you snuck the tart out of _my_ cells to shack up in your," he sneers as he looks around the dingy room, "love nest! If it were any other copper, Tyler, you'd tell me to report this to head office, am I correct?" 

"It was Witness Protection," Sam mutters. "Not –"

" _I'd_ say it was you coming dangerously close to being bent," Gene says gravely, enjoying the word. He sniffs, then gives Sam a grin. "Still, look on the bright side, ey? I'll handle this all internally."

"Handle what?" Sam is shifting uncomfortably, confused.

"Behaviour like this can't go unpunished, not with you setting the example for my men, _Detective Inspector_ ," he points out, and Sam's eyes widen at the touch of Gene's hand at his bare hip. "What kind of state would the police be in if we all behaved like you, ey? I've got to make an example out of you, Sammy boy."

"Guv," Sam says quickly, swallowing. "Guv, you've had your time to gloat, alright? Just…let me go. Come on, my wrists are killing, and me head. She must've drugged-"

"–Drugs an' all, is it?" His fingers slide across the flat plane of Sam's stomach, feeling the muscles flutter delicately at his touch. Sam's skin is heated despite the lack of covers, slick and sensitive. Gene rakes his nails lightly over Sam's belly and grins as he gasps. He shrugs off his coat, slaps his hand across Sam's face, hard, then raises the DI's head forcibly with fingers grasping his hair. "Well well well, what have we here?" he asks as they both watch Sam's length harden. Sam groans miserably.

"Gene –"

"–I beg your pardon?" Sam sighs, his eyes pressing shut briefly.

" _Guv_. This is just…the effects of whatever she slipped me."

"I think you slipped _her_ something, my son," he retorts, and Sam's control seems to suddenly snap.

"Alright, _enough_! Time to wake up! This _has_ to be a dream!" Sam is shouting this at the ceiling, his entire body suddenly taut with fury. The cuffs rattle as he wrenches angrily at them. Gene watches the livid red marks blossoming on his wrists dispassionately as the younger man raves. "Wakey wakey! I _refuse_ to believe that I am being turned on by a fat, alcoholic, _homophobic_ , racist _bastard_ like -!"

"–Like the Gene genie?" he finishes, unruffled by Sam's usual mental behaviour, and takes the opportunity to twist a hard nipple viciously. Sam gasps, arching under his hand and trying to writhe away, so he grabs the other and is pleased to hear him swear. A foot suddenly catches him in the gut, a fierce kick as if Sam fancies himself Bruce Lee, and he gasps. "You little tit!"

It isn't a fight, not really. He suspects it would have been, if Sam had the use of his arms, but all he can really do is kick and spit insults. After a couple of minutes during which, to his credit, he's managed to plant a few bruises on his DCI, Sam is left pinned beneath Gene's substantial weight. His legs are forced either side of the bed as Gene kneels on his thighs, hands on Sam's struggling shoulders.

"You always have to kick up a fuss, don't you, Gladys?" he grins as Sam grits his teeth angrily. "Good."

"Bastard. What're you gonna do to me, Guv? Beat the shit out of me then send me down for being the _one_ clean cop in the station?"

"What do you _think_ I'm gonna do? Give you a kiss and a cuddle?" he snorts, his eyes fixed to Sam's furious gaze. "I am gonna shove my cock inside your pretty little arse until you come so hard you're in danger of having someone's eye out!" Sam hesitates, apparently genuinely confused when he speaks.

"You're…?"

"A poof?"

"Yes. No," the younger man sighs.

"Clear as mud, as usual, Tyler," Gene grunts, and sits back on Sam's spread legs. Sam lifts his head to look at him.

"Gay. That's what I mean. You're gay?"

"I don't think it's gay when the other person is such a bloody _woman_ ," he sighs, and Sam _almost_ laughs. "'course I'm not gay. Do I look like a Dorothy to you?" He frowns as his DI doesn't answer immediately, instead seeming to consider his answer before he speaks.

"You're an overly-macho alpha male who seeks out male company and oozes masculinity from every pore," Sam murmurs, almost to himself. "All you're lacking is a 'tache."

"You watch it," Gene warns. "I'm married, remember? And if I happen to enjoy a bit on the side, well, what she don't know won't hurt her."

"And if that 'bit' has a penis?" Sam asks archly, and the DCI smirks.

"What you should be asking yourself, _Tyler_ , is what it means if said penis is stiff enough to fly the bloody cross of Saint George!" Sam groans as he realises his boss has a point; his prick his hard, pressed firmly between them. Gene snaps his hips roughly and Sam gasps, his head tipping back and his eyes closing at the friction. "What does that mean, then, ey?"

 Sam swallows. "It…means that whatever I was given last night must be a stimulant. Or…it means that somebody, out there," Sam raises his eyebrows at the ceiling, "Is performing an _extremely_ non-standard procedure on me."


End file.
